


Red-Handed

by AnabielVriskaMars



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, non sburb au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 11:02:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4098589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnabielVriskaMars/pseuds/AnabielVriskaMars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's gonna know you're faking it.</p><p>He's totally gonna know.</p><p>"How're you feeling?"</p><p>..<br/>...<br/>He totally knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red-Handed

**Author's Note:**

> guess who's a depressive maniac who makes herself feel better by writing?
> 
> This depressive maniac

You are not going to lie.

You feel guilty. Very,  _very_ guilty.

But its not your fault!! It really isn't!!

Its just that... John and Dad  _love_ the prankster stuff. They're like nanna. You... you don't. You're more like your grandpa.

And yea, that definitely has to do with the warped family history in which nanna, dad and John went to live in the civilization, but grandpa couldn't really handle it so he decided to go to the island he'd bought with the company's money and took you with him for company.

Its definitely something logical, and you  _love_  living with your family, now that you moved in with them.

Its just that...

"Jade! Get ready! We will be late for the Prankapalooza! Dad's already downstairs!"

Yes, the Prankapalooza. How anybody in their right mind would think this should be a thing should have ants in their lunchbox.

Its terrible, degrading, annoying, depressing and  _annual_.

So... you take a little liberty this year.

"John?" you call, holding your nose. You cough for dramatic effect.

You hear him stop at your door without opening it.

"Uhm... Jade? Are you alright?" he sounds uncertain. You cough again for good measure.

"I'm feeling a little under the weather... I think you guys should go without me."

"What? C'mon Jade! You cannot be sick! Not today!" he sounds genuinely disappointed, but you  _can't_ give in.

"I'm really sorry... I promise to make it up to you." You say. You feel him hovering in front of the door.

"Maybe we shouldn't go at all then... Its a family affair, after all." 

Oh wow, now you  _really_ feel bad. 

"No!" you say, and your distress can be confused with a sneeze. "Really John, I wouldn't want you to miss it... you wait all year for this thing. Don't miss it on account of me, I'll be fine... I'll probably sleep all day."

He hesitates. "Are you sure?"

"Completely. Have alot of fun with dad. I love you."

"I love you too, Jade, thanks." You hear the steps as he walks away.

You settle back in your bed. Do you feel guilty? Yes. Do you regret it? Hell no. 

Its not their fault that you're so different from them, and its not a bad thing! Its just that you can't really see eye to eye on some of their activities... like throwing cakes and pies at each others faces, like what the hell? How is that amusing? How is that better than hunting? Or camping? Or programming or gardening or building?

You love them, but you're not one of them, and thats okay.

So you nestle in your pillow and you catch some more sleep.

* * *

The door slams. You sit up.

There's someone in the house.

If there is one thing to thank Grandpa Harley (you know, besides raising you and loving you and teaching you all the things you needed to know) is that he left you his entire gun collection. And even though Dad has them locked up in the shed because they make him nervous, you managed to keep one under your matress, and right now you're  _very_ thankful for that.

Everyone should have a rifle under their bed. You know, like any sensible person.

The knob to your door turns. You get nervous. You start sweating cold. But your hands are steady, and you're ready to take a shot if you feel threatened.

The door swings open...

...And Dave is staring at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Harley, would you mind not trying to blow my head off? These shades are expensive."

"Dave!" You immediately point your rifle away. You don't want any accidents! "What are you doing here?"

"Well, your dork ass brother called me up and told me you were puking your metaphorical balls off and asked me to come check up on you." He explains, and now you remember that you were supposed to be acting sick. But maybe he hasn't noticed. "But its okay, I'll just tell him that Liar McHealthypants here was a-okay and was the only person sane enough to refuse going to that circus, and I don't mean that kindly."

"No, wait!" you call, and you know you got caught red-handed. You hang your head in shame. "How did you know?"

"How did  _I_ know that miss Posterchild-for-general-health was faking being sick on the day of the absolute worst and most dreadful event in the entire year? A bird told me."

"Please don't tell John... He and dad were so excited... I just didn't want to hurt their feelings." You say and sigh, "Its just... that conference  _really_  sucks."

"A bunch of pedos trying to one-up each other in the department of cheap, surface level comedy with no intrinsical depth and the overuse of regular and cliche tropes that haven't been updated in three hundred years because the same bastards have perpetuated the idea that its the base of a somewhat called "classic" prank? How can you not absolutely love that? Its the epitome of human-kind, Jade, and you're missing it because you refuse to suck the marrow out of life."

"Please stop talking." You ask kindly. Dave sometimes gets away with these rants. "I know its wrong."

Dave just flops down in your bed.

"Actually its not." He says. You stare at him.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you've spent the better part of your twenty-one years living as if every day was your last in the freaking island of adventures, and suddenly you're stuck in the suburbs, ad yeah, your family loves you, but they haven't made much of an effort to understand how you feel about the world, and how something may or may not appeal not only to a foreigner, but to somebody of the opposite sex. Have they taken you to libraries? Gone shooting with you? Ever take you to a greenhouse? No, they haven't, and that's because they have not shifted their lives to incorporate you, and you haven't demanded it of them."

"That's..." You start, but he brushes you over.

"It not that they don't love you. Of course they do. They just don't know how to show it. They treat you as they treat each other because that's what they know works. They're not bad people. They're just idiots." He stops, and you wait to heartbeats to decide he's finished talking.

"That's... incredibly insightful." You're shocked and you can't hide it. Dave shrugs.

"People assume I'm a dumbass."

"You're not!"

"Of course I'm not. But if they think I am, they ask me for less. So it works for me." He does his half, tiny, almost-smile and it reminds you how much you adore Dave.

"I'm sorry you had to come all this way just to lecture me."

"I didn't."

You perk up a bit. "You didn't?"

"Of course no. I expect to be paid for my services. Preferably in the form of Apple Juice an a PB&J." He stands from your bed. "Chop chop, Harley, the boy is hungry."

You laugh. You can't help it. You really love Dave.

So you get your ass off of your bed and you go to the kitchen.

* * *

You put a sandwich and some apple juice for him and he brightens up. He takes a bite, and you just watch him for a few seconds, just taking in how strange your friend can be sometimes.

"Harley," he says, cutting through your thoughts. "This is the best goddamn PB&J I've ever tried."

You laugh. "REally," you know he's joking.

"This is like the Al Pacino of the PB&J's. Like the Empire Strikes Back of the sandwiches. Everything else is just a Jar Jar Binx and its pathetic, Jade,  _pathetic_."

You laugh hard. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about your prowess. Bow as queen of the rebels, Princess Leia."

You laugh, a bit embarassed. What's with all this praise?

"I need to come clean about something." You say, still smiling. 

"What? You're actually an alien? A space-troll? I knew it."

You laugh harder. "I've never seen Star Wars."

Dave just tilts his shades and looks you over them. The joke in his face is gone. He looks dead serious. You're a bit scared.

"You  _what_?"

"Its just... John doesn't love that movie, and back in the island its not like I had a huge repertoire to choose from."

He shoves the rest of his sandwich in his mouth. "Crm Awh." 

And somehow you understand he means 'come on,' so when he stands, you follow him.

* * *

Five minutes later, he's got Netflix hooked up and an HD version of A New Hope is on screen. The movie is paused right before those famous jiggly yellow letters floating in space.

"Ready to get your mind blown?"

"It's just a movie."

"Its  _art,_  Harley."

"Its a  _movie_ , Dave."

You bring the popcorn into the sofa and sit. He sits next to you and throws his arm behind your back and you flinch a bit.

He stares at you for a moment, confused. You realize your mistake. 

 _He's just sitting with his arm stretched, Harley, take a chill pill_.

You feel a little silly, but the truth is... well..

Okay, you won't lie to yourself. You've always had a teeeeny weeeeeny crush on Dave. He's just... such a dork.

You know he thinks he's really cool, and you think he is! Just not in the same way he does.

He's cool because he really loves the things he loves. He calls it irony, but there's  _passion_ to what he does... the turntables, sparring, swords, videogames... he puts  _everything_ he is into it, and you really really love that.

And yes, okay, he's tall and skinny and adorable and he's always wearing those dorky shades which he thinks are  _soooo_ cool but that's just what makes him Dave.

You notice that you've been staring for a few seconds too long and sit back on your spot, embarassed.

"I'm sorry, do I smell?" he asks, and you know its rethoric because he showers in an anal fashion twice a day and always wears deodorant and perfume which smell pretty good, and he  _knows_ it.

"You just caught me off guard, okay?" you shuffle a bit but mentally slap yourself. Jade Harley is a fool for no man. "I just thought you were being weird. Now play the movie, fuckass."

So you watch the movie, and you admit, it is pretty damn awesome. You like the guns and the ships and the robotics of it. You can get behind the science fiction of this, because its science, and even though there's not a giant slug-like mafia organism, you can accept the fact that its a different organism and that  _maybe_ there is some galaxy in which that's a thing.

The weird thing is that every once in a while you catch Dave's head a bit tilted to the side, and his red eyes flashing outside of the rim of his shades, and you could swear hes looking at you, but thats probably crazy.

So you watch the movie until the end and you  _definitely love_ Princess Leia, and okay, you may be tooting your own horn a bit, but you feel really identified with her. She's just everything you've ever wanted in a character: clever, brave, she knows how to handle her guns, and she takes shit from no one. Just the way it should be.

The end credits roll. The popcorn bowl is empty. Dave doesn't shift from his seat.

"What id you think?" he asks in a bored tone, but you know him enough that he's expecting your answer.

"I admit it, it was pretty great," you smile and turn to see him, and once again he has that meaningful look he kept stealing at you during the movie. "Uhm... are you okay?" you ask.

He turns his head quickly, "of course you liked it," he tries to sound nonchalant, but there's a strain to his voice. He's nervous. "That movie is amazeballs."

You realize that he's been pointedly not looking at you for hours.

"Is something wrong with me?" You ask and he immediately turns in your direction, frowning.

"What? No, why would you ask that?"

"I don't know, you've been avoiding looking at me for the better part of the day."

He sighs and pushes his shades up just a little, so he can scratch his eyes.

"You never changed out of you pyjamas, woman." He explains, and you still don't understand why that is a problem. "I'm a healthy young man and you're a pretty , healthy woman whose wearing loose fabric, short shorts, and if I'm not mistaken, no bra." You hear his almost-blush. "I'm trying real hard to respect you and not ogle, but you don't make it easy."

You snort a little. "Why would you ogle  _me?"_ You have no body image issues, but you truly don't undersand.

He grunts in frustration. "Come on, Jade, don't play dumb. You know you're cute. Stop pretending you don't." He pushes away from you on the couch and oyu realize that you don't like that. "Anyway, do you wanna see the next one? Empire Strikes Back is the best one."

You nod, and he quickly finds the next movie and sets it up. The silence is tense. You stand.

"Do you want me to make some more popcorn?" You ask, but you feel that earlier's discomfort is not gone.

"No, that's alright. I had enough." You sit back down, and you know he's waiting for you to ask him to play the movie.

So you hit him with something unexpected.

"Why did you give me that whole not-fitting-into-the-family speech?" You ask. He turns his head slightly, just to gaze at you from the edge of his shades.

"What?"

You cross your arms.

"Its just that... You seemed to understand it a little too well."

He slides his hand across his face and sighs.

"Are you trying to ask me if I identify with your situation? Yeah, I guess I do. It doesn't really matter how much I used to look up to Bro, or how much I try to understand what Rose is gurgling in general, it just doesn't happen. And mom's MIA most of the time, and when she isn't.... well its just weird. And don't get me started in how weird her relationship with Bro is. I don't this she's his mom. I could even believe its a conspiracy."

Oh.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" you ask. You've never felt this close to him.. its like he understands you in a way you didn't know you could be misunderstood.

Dave shrugs. "Say what? 'Hey guys, I'm feeling a bit out of the loop. Care to integrate me?'" he explains, trying to sound bored, but you can hear his frustration. "I think we're all just too into our own shit... sort of an antisocial family, if you ask me."

You uncross your arms and pull your knees up to your chest. This is the first time you've heard he feels like that.

Its hard to imagine a world in which Dave Strider isn't this silly, overconfident, overcompensating guy. Its hard to understand that he sees himself just as everybody else sees him, and that he's trying to bury it. Its just... sad.

"That sounds a bit lonely." you whisper. He shrugs.

"Its all the same to me." Of course its not. "They love me, I guess, and that's enough." It shouldn't be.

Everything is silence for a moment. You feel as if a connection between you two was made. 

Something clicks with him for the first time. There's this... energy that was never there before, and now that you've seen it you can't unsee it. 

He turns to look at you, and this time, he's the one who crosses his arms, like he's scared of something, and it doesn't occur to you for a moment that he might be scared of you.

"You're good." You say, without meaning to. 

"I'm awesome." he replies, but he doesn't mean it.

So you decide to do something you  _really_ mean to do.

Just as casually as if you were doing anything in your life; as if you were swatting a mosquito, or reaching for the control, or opening your computer, you lean over and you kiss him.

Space and time don't freeze. The world doesn't stop turning under your feet. Nothing disappears around you.

But then he starts kissing you back. And it all changes.

 _Now_  you feel only space around you.  _Now_ you feel time stop.

Its as if millions and millions of years are trapped in the galaxy that exists inside this very moment.

Its soft, and sweet and gentle, and its understanding and lovely and full of nervousness and excitement and relief.

It takes you more than it should to break away from him. When you open your eyes, your glasses are fogged. In this angle, his red eyes shine through his shades, and they're staring at you intently, and even though there's an apology ready in your lips, you don't let it lose, because you aren't the least bit sorry for what you've just done.

"Was that okay?" you can't help asking. You're not sorry, but you really hope you haven't made him uncomfortable.

You see that he is registering everything in that moment, and there's aprehension overtaking you, but also excitement. You didn't know how much you needed to kiss Dave until you did, and now you hate every moment of not kissing him.

"Why did you do that?" he asks, and there's no reproach in his voice. There's no curiosity either. Its like he's asking because he has to.

"I wanted to." You reply softly, and you realize that you're still only inches away from him and that you can still feel his warm breath against your lips. "I really really wanted to. Was it wrong?"

And that's when you feel the pressure come back to your lips, and its like you just regained the ability to breathe. Your hands find his shoulders and his hands find your face and they are so much more gentle and sweet than you could ever had imagined.

Its long and sweet and good and right.

He pulls away and looks at you super intently, and you find that it doesn't bother you. His eyes are like warm ember in a cold winter afternoon.

"That was okay," he breathes. "That was very,  _very_ okay." His hand still hovers on your cheek and you can't help but smile at him. He doesn't smile with his lips, but his eyes change a bit, and you know he's the same as you right now. 

"Its too bad," you say after a moment. He looks a bit confused. "It was a great movie, but I'm not gonna remember any of it."

His lips graze yours one more time, and he whispers against them. "That's okay... We can watch it as many times as you want. But I warn you... the result will always be the same."

You laugh a silly laugh, and you like it. Its a nice laugh and you hope to do it again.

Dave positions his arm the same way he did before, but this time he pulls you to him, and you rest against him. He plays the movie, but as you said before, the only thing you can remember about it are the stolen kisses that come from time to time, and they're all as delicious as the first. 

* * *

"Hey, Jade!" John calls. You sit up in the couch, away from Dave. The movie is almost over. What's worse, Dave will have to leave soon. "We're back!"

John walks into the living room. You look at him and smile sweetly.

"Hey bro," you say. He looks happy to see you.

"You look great! Dave really did take care of you!"

"Of course I did, you fuckwad. I wouldn't leave my friends hanging, wouldI I? I'm mother fucking House MD up in this bitch, and ain't no one gonna tell me otherwise. I got this girl up and at em in an hour."

You laugh. "I slept it off and felt better." You counter, because the lie has to be  _at least_ a tiny bit believable. 

Dave stands. "Well, Harleyberts, its been a pleasure to be seen by you, but since the family is here, goldilocks has got to make a run for it." He turns and walks out of the living room, and you feel a little sad that your day is over.

"By the way, Jade?" he pops his head into the living room one more time.

"Yeah?" you perk up.

"Let me know when you wanna watch the rest of the movies. I can give you a full on explanation as to why the prequels are the work of a hateful god."

Your heart swells. "I'd love that!"

And Dave slips away.

"So, you had a good day?" John asks. "Dad's getting us pizza, if you're feeling up for it."

You smile. "It was a great day. And I'm  _always_ up for pizza."

 

 

 

 


End file.
